


Calendar Girls

by arysa13



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Christmas, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Friends to Lovers, Humor, Photography
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-21
Updated: 2016-08-14
Packaged: 2018-05-08 04:44:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,239
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5483894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arysa13/pseuds/arysa13
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Octavia has the brilliant idea to make a sexy calendar, with interesting results.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Wow it has been a while since I wrote anything, so this might be terrible, sorry!

It starts out as a joke more than anything. Clarke gets Lexa’s name in the Kris Kringle that Octavia has organised and it’s not so much that Clarke and Lexa used to date that makes it hard, it’s the fact that Lexa isn’t into material things at all. Clarke used to give her pieces of art or photography that she’d done herself when they had been dating, but she doubts Lexa would appreciate such gifts now, since Clarke is pretty sure Lexa only ever liked the art because it was done by Clarke, not because Lexa actually appreciated art.

So Clarke enlists in the help of Raven and Octavia, which is probably her first mistake.

“Hmmm, let me think… what does Lexa like?” Raven muses as the three of them brainstorm on Octavia’s couch. Which is actually her brother Bellamy’s couch, but Octavia recently decided she hates living in a dorm at university and consequently moved back in with her brother.

“Weapons,” Octavia supplies. Clarke rolls her eyes. “Tattoos. Beating people up. Torturing kittens.”

“Hey, be nice,” Clarke warns.

“Don’t get me wrong, I like Lexa, or else I’d kick her out of the group. You know that,” Octavia points out.

“Right, because you have full power over who is and isn’t allowed in the group,” Clarke scoffs. Octavia ignores her.

“But you can’t deny she’s a little…” Octavia searches for the right word.

“Violent?” Raven suggests.

“I was going to say terrifying but yours works too,” Octavia shrugs.

“You guys aren’t helping,” Clarke scowls. “This whole Kris Kringle thing was your idea O, so you have to help me.”

“What else does Lexa like?” Raven asks.

“Naked girls,” Octavia grins. Clarke hits her with a cushion.

“No, you know what, she has a point,” Raven says seriously.

“That Lexa likes naked girls? What am I going to do, buy her a hooker?” Clarke huffs in exasperation.

“I was thinking more along the lines of like… a calendar,” Raven shrugs.

“That’s kind of boring but I guess it’s not a bad idea,” Clarke sighs. At least getting a calendar of naked girls will be pretty easy, even if is kind of tacky.

“Oh my god you guys,” Octavia bursts out, grabbing both Clarke and Raven’s arms, startling both of them. “I just had the most brilliant idea.”

“Well, go on, share,” Raven prompts.

“Okay, so our band needs more promotion and more ways to make money right? And you suggested merchandise Clarke,” Octavia starts. Clarke nods, a little confused as to where this is going. Clarke herself isn’t actually part of Octavia and Raven’s band, she just takes pictures when the girls have a gig. They’re called _Sky Warriors_ and they’ve been scoring a fair few gigs lately, but they’re still looking to get their name out there more.

“Okay, so my idea is,” Octavia pauses, seemingly for dramatic effect, but then she kind of blows out some air, as if not quite sure how to word her brilliant plan. Clarke and Raven watch her expectantly. “Have you ever seen the movie Calendar Girls?” she finally asks.

“Aren’t you going to tell us what this idea of yours is?” Clarke asks her slowly, as if Octavia might have temporarily misplaced her brain and has forgotten what she’s supposed to be talking about.

“I’m getting there!” Octavia snaps. “Have you seen it?”

“The one where the old ladies make a naked calendar to raise money?” Raven asks.

“That’s the one,” Octavia agrees.

“Octavia,” Clarke says flatly. “Are you suggesting, by any chance, that you take naked photos of yourselves and make a calendar for you to sell as merchandise for your band?”

“That’s exactly what I’m suggesting,” Octavia beams and Raven cackles.

“This is a brilliant idea,” Raven high fives Octavia. “And then it can be your present to Lexa as well.”

“You can take the pictures, Clarke, since you and Bell are doing that photography class. Then I’ll take the one of you,” Octavia says.

“Who said anything about me being in the calendar?” Clarke narrows her eyes.

“We need twelve girls, Clarke. We’re going to need you,” Octavia tells her. Clarke rolls her eyes. If she’s is being honest, it isn’t the worst idea Octavia has ever had. She doesn’t really have a problem with getting naked, and she doesn’t have a problem with the idea of a pornographic calendar. She’s just not sure she wants to be _in_ said calendar.

“Look, I’m happy to take the pictures. But personally, I don’t feel comfortable with the thought of some guy having a naked picture of me on the back of his bathroom door,” she screws up her nose.

“They won’t be like… super naked,” Octavia assures her. “We won’t show any nipple or vagina or butt crack or anything. It will just be like… sexy but tasteful. Like in the movie.”

“Didn’t you say the movie was about old ladies?” Clarke asks sceptically.

“And old ladies can’t be sexy?”

-

Clarke finally agrees to have her picture taken for the calendar, and then they just have to come up with nine other girls who’ll be willing to do it.

“Well, obviously the other girls in the band; Harper, Fox, and Monroe,” Raven says. “Maybe Sterling’s girl, Mel. What about Jasper’s girlfriend?”

“We can only ask,” Octavia shrugs. “What about the girls Lexa works with?” she asks Clarke.

“Indra and Anya would never turn down a challenge,” Clarke tells her with a laugh. “That leaves two more.”

The girls look up then as the door handle turns and Bellamy walks into the room.

“Hey,” he greets them, throwing his keys in the bowl by the door.

“Hey, know any girls who’d be willing to pose naked for a calendar shoot?” Raven asks him.

“Excuse me?” he chuckles in confusion. He wanders over and sits in the recliner next to the couch.

“Wasn’t exactly planning on telling him about it,” Octavia glares at Raven.

“What’s going on?” Bellamy asks, looking to Clarke for an explanation. She shrugs at him as if she doesn’t have any idea and he raises an eyebrow at her sceptically.

“When you guys are done having your silent conversation,” Octavia rolls her eyes.

“We’re doing a sexy calendar for Lexa’s Christmas present. We need two more,” Raven tells Bellamy.

“You want to give your ex a naked picture of yourself?” Bellamy looks to Clarke in disbelief.

“It’s also for band merch,” Clarke defends.

“This has got to be by far the worst idea you girls have ever had,” Bellamy shakes his head.

“We aren’t going to be _naked_ ,” Octavia clarifies. “It’s just sexy, it’s not porn.”

“Don’t care. There’s no way you’re doing it,” Bellamy tells her. “Especially to _sell_. Are you insane?”

“You can’t actually stop me so there’s that,” Octavia pouts. “And I guess if you can’t help us with the other two girls, I’ll just have to pose for three of them myself,” she shrugs. Bellamy looks aghast and she smiles at him smugly.

“Fine,” Bellamy mutters. “I think I might know a couple of girls.”

-

It takes some convincing, but Clarke, Raven, and Octavia manage to convince all the girls to be in the calendar and their final list looks like this;

 **January -** Mel

 **February -** Anya

 **March -** Raven

 **April -** Harper

 **May -** Indra

 **June -** Roma

 **July** \- Maya

 **August -** Echo

 **September -** Octavia

 **October -** Monroe

 **November -** Clarke

 **December –** Fox

 

The girls they’ve recruited have agreed upon various states of undress. Maya will do nothing less than a bikini and Fox agreed to a sexy Santa outfit. Mel will wear whatever as long as she gets to wear fluffy earmuffs, and Anya and Indra say they’ll do it as long as their photos look like they are ready to cut a man’s head off. The other girls in the band; Raven, Octavia, Harper and Monroe, plus Clarke herself, all agree on wearing lingerie. The girls Bellamy helped them get in touch with, Roma and Echo, offer to pose completely nude, leaving Clarke to wonder where exactly he found them. She asks him in their Thursday afternoon photography class.

“They’re just girls I know,” he shrugs, snapping a picture of her.

“We’re supposed to be taking pictures of birds, Bellamy,” Clarke reminds him. “You call them when you want sex, right?”

“The birds?”

“Echo and Roma,” Clarke rolls her eyes.

“Not usually at the same time,” he winks.

“Not _usually_?” Clarke can’t help bursting out.

“Loosen up, princess,” Bellamy gives her an affectionate nudge. “Besides, what’s it to you?”

“I _am_ loose,” Clarke chooses to ignore his second comment, and his snicker when she says she’s loose. “I’m going to pose for a nude calendar. Bet you never thought you’d see the day.”

“No, I did not,” he agrees. “I bet you’ll look ridiculous. Can’t wait to get my hands on a copy,” he winks and Clarke rolls her eyes. “Which I will immediately tear Octavia’s page out of,” he shudders. “Or I’ll get you to do it, so I don’t even have to see it. Isn’t there any way you can talk her out of it?”

“Not a chance. It was her idea,” Clarke informs him. He sighs and goes back to taking pictures.

-

The first few photo shoots go surprisingly well. Octavia insists on watching over every single one, of course. Maya manages to look super cute and not at all freezing at her photo shoot at the beach, despite it being November. Mel and Fox also look really cute in their winter costumes, and Indra and Anya succeed in their goal of looking like they want to kill a man.

They hit their first snag when they get to Monroe. They’ve decided to go with a Halloween theme since her month is October and she’s dressed in some sexy black underwear and a pair of cat ears. Well, she would be, if she’d ever come out of Clarke’s room.

“Guys, I don’t think I can do this,” she calls to Clarke and Octavia.

“What’s wrong?” Octavia calls back.

“I look stupid,” Monroe wails.

“Let me see,” Octavia tries to barge into the room but Monroe leans against the door to stop her.

“No way,” she says. Octavia huffs.

“What’s wrong with it, Monroe?” Clarke asks her.

“It’s just… so not me,” Monroe replies.

“What are we going to do?” Octavia whispers to Clarke.

“Let me call Raven,” Clarke says, having no other ideas of her own. “Monroe doesn’t want to do it,” she tells Raven when Raven picks up.

“Why?”

“She says it’s ‘not her’ or something,” Clarke quotes. Raven is silent for a moment and Clarke is about to ask her again when she speaks.

“I have an idea. Meet me at the lacrosse field in twenty minutes. Bring Monroe,” Raven says cryptically before hanging up the phone. Clarke does as she’s bid and twenty minutes later she arrives at the lacrosse field with Monroe and Octavia in tow, plus all her photography equipment. Raven shoves a bag into Monroe’s hands.

“Go and get changed while we set up,” Raven tells her. Clarke finishes setting up just as Monroe comes back, looking infinitely happier than she had before. She’s dressed in a hot pink sports bra and tiny grey shorts and she looks like she’s in her element.

“I forgot shoes,” Raven tells them.

“All we have are the black heels she was going to wear for the cat costume,” Octavia says.

“Bare foot it is,” Clarke grins. Raven hands Monroe a lacrosse stick and they start the photoshoot.

-

“Can I see the photos?” Bellamy asks Clarke in their photography lesson. They do see each other throughout the week, but photography class is the only time they spend together without their other friends hanging around.

“What photos?” Clarke asks him absentmindedly, focusing on editing one of the bird pictures from the previous week.

“For the calendar,” he says. Clarke looks at him and smirks.

“Bellamy Blake, you pevert,” she says.

“I meant from a photographer’s point of view,” he says defensively, turning a little red.

“Aww, you’re cute when you’re embarrassed,” Clarke laughs. “I haven’t done Roma or Echo yet, just so you know.”

“I don’t care about theirs, I’ve seen them naked plenty of times,” he scoffs.

“So who is it then?” she teases. “Raven? Harper? Ooh, Maya? You know she has a boyfriend.”

“Oh shut up,” Bellamy says, turning back to his computer as Clarke continues to laugh at him.

-

Clarke does Raven, Octavia and Roma on Saturday and they take almost no time at all. Octavia decides against lingerie for herself in the end, and instead wears on of Lincoln’s button down shirts, buttoned up to her belly button.

On Sunday Clarke finishes up with Harper and then Echo.

“I see Bellamy has a type,” Clarke mutters to Octavia when Echo shows up, and she can’t think why it annoys her so much that both Echo and Roma and both thin, leggy brunettes. Echo is flawless of course, and extremely confident, so her photoshoot goes off without a hitch.

She tells Bellamy as much when she sees him the following Thursday.

“I figured it would, I’ve photographed her before,” Bellamy replies. Clarke raises her eyebrows at him. “Not like that,” he snorts. “It was for class, when we had to do portraits.”

“Riiiight,” Clarke drawls, thought she mostly believes him.

“What was she wearing by the way?” Bellamy asks.

“Oh my god, Bellamy, are you asking me to talk dirty to you _about Echo_?” Clarke hisses so their classmates can’t hear.

“Not what I meant,” Bellamy cringes. “Have you got anyone wearing those stocking things that are like… attached with like… things?” he asks.

“Garters and suspenders?” Clarke supplies. Bellamy nods. “No.”

“Shame,” he shrugs and goes back to flicking through his photos.

-

Clarke decides it _is_ a shame no one has worn suspenders because she finds them particularly sexy. And since she’s the only one left to photograph, she buys herself some. Clarke’s original idea for her November photoshoot had been to use a wood fire heater as the backdrop, but the only person she knows who has one is her mom, and she doesn’t feel like being half naked in her mother’s living room. So Octavia suggests her brother’s study. It doesn’t have a wood fire, but it has kind of the same vibe, it’s all dark wood with a fancy desk and chair and walls lined with books.

They ask him of course, otherwise he might walk in while they’re shooting and Clarke thinks that would be awkward.

“You want to shoot in my study?” he asks her. She nods. “For your calendar?”

“Yes, Bellamy, now can we use it or what?”

“I don’t know. Who are you photographing?” he asks, though Clarke is pretty sure he’s just stalling to be annoying.

“I’m not photographing anyone. Octavia is photographing me,” Clarke tells him. Bellamy almost chokes on what appears to be air, before turning bright red.

“Are you okay?” Clarke asks him.

“Yeah, just… swallowed a bug,” he coughs.

“So can we use your study?” she asks again. Bellamy just nods.

-

“Whatever you do, _don’t_ come in here until we’re done,” Octavia tells Bellamy as she shuts the door to his study in his face. Clarke has set everything up for her, so all she has to do is point the camera and shoot. Clarke hopes she doesn’t screw it up. She slips off the robe she’s wearing and goes to move into position when she has an idea.

“Hey, O, do you think it would be a bad idea to lose the bra? And like do shots from the back or where I’m just covering my chest with a book or something?” she asks.

“If you want. Roma didn’t wear anything on top either and you said hers still looked classy,” Octavia reminds her. Clarke nods and unclips her bra, throwing it behind Octavia. Octavia starts taking pictures then, as Clarke poses, trying to come up with different ways to cover her nipples.

“Okay, come and look,” Octavia finally says. Clarke puts her robe back on and joins Octavia behind the camera. And frankly, the photos are terrible. Octavia clearly has no idea how to frame the shots and she seems to have a lot where Clarke is in motion.

“Look, O… don’t take offence to this but…” Clarke trails off.

“They suck,” Octavia fills in the gap. Clarke nods apologetically.

“I’m sure there’s one…” Clarke flicks through the photos but doesn’t see a single one they can use. She sighs. “We need a proper photographer.”

“Bell’s home,” Octavia points out.

“O,” Clarke says warningly.

“What? I’m sure once he gets over the shock of seeing you naked he’ll be totally professional,” Octavia persuades.

“That’s so not the problem,” Clarke snorts.

“What then? He’s going to see the photos anyway when we print the calendar,” Octavia reminds her.

“One photo. He’ll see one photo,” Clarke argues.

“Well, what else are we going to do? You can’t take pictures of yourself. And we’re running out of time before Christmas,” Octavia says. Clarke knows Octavia’s right. And it she knows it shouldn’t be a problem. She was fine with Octavia taking the pictures, why not Bellamy?

“Fine,” she agrees. “You go and get him.” Octavia flounces out of the room and Clarke starts pacing nervously, trying to figure out what she’s so worried about. It’s not that she thinks Bellamy can’t be professional. She’s sure he’ll treat the whole thing very clinically. And that, she realises, is maybe entirely the problem. She’s worried he’ll see her half naked and that he won’t have any reaction past _I knew you’d look ridiculous._ She doesn’t look anything like Roma or Echo, and what if he’s repulsed by the extra weight on her ass and thighs? And then there’s the whole suspender and garter thing. He’s totally going to think she decided to wear them because _he_ likes them. _Which you did,_ says a voice in her head, and she groans as it finally dawns on her that she has a humiliatingly giant crush on Bellamy Blake.

“Everything okay?” Bellamy asks her as he steps into the room, shutting the door behind him.

“Fine,” Clarke smiles, a little too brightly.

“O said you need me to take pictures,” he says.

“Yeah, uh, her pictures are terrible,” Clarke laughs. “Is she coming back?”

“She says she’ll just be in the way,” Bellamy tells her.

“Right,” Clarke nods, unsure if this is going to be more or less awkward with Octavia gone. “I guess we should start then.” She turns her back to him and slips the robe off, tossing it aside. She hears Bellamy’s sharp intake of breath, then he clears his throat, as if getting into professional mode.

“Are you ready?” he asks.

“As I’ll ever be,” Clarke mutters. She takes a deep breath and leans against the desk before turning her head over her shoulder and looking into the camera seductively.

“Great,” says Bellamy and he begins snapping.

Clarke tries a few different poses before Bellamy starts directing her. He pulls a book off a shelf and hands it to her.

“Sit in the chair,” he instructs. She clutches the open book to her chest as she does so. Bellamy takes a few photos. “Put your legs up on the desk.” Clarke follows his instructions. “Okay, can you get rid of the book and just… use your arm to cover yourself?” he asks. Clarke nods and he looks away politely while she gets herself into position.

“Okay,” she tells him, biting her lip.

“Great,” he says, his voice coming out a little croaky. He takes a few more pictures, then steps back to look at the ones he’s taken. “I think we’re good.” Clarke breathes a sigh of relief and pulls her robe back on. She goes to stand beside Bellamy to look at the pictures, and she’s relieved to find they actually look pretty good.

“So, do I look as ridiculous as you thought I would?” Clarke asks Bellamy as she flicks through.

“No, you look really sexy, actually,” he tells her, and she hates herself for the flush of pleasure she feels at his words.

“I like this one,” she says, getting to one right near the end. She’s in her last pose, biting her lip seductively. “What do you think?” He doesn’t answer right away so Clarke looks up at him. “Bellamy?” she prompts, but she finds his eyes not focused on the camera at all but gazing at her, and not at her face either. She glances down to find the robe has fallen open slightly and a significant amount of cleavage is showing. Bellamy turns bright red when she notices him looking.

“Oh my god, I’m really sorry,” he says, turning his attention back to the camera.

“Bellamy,” Clarke says again, seriously this time and he turns his attention back to her. She doesn’t bother fixing the robe and his eyes flick down to her cleavage again before managing to train themselves on her face. She moves her hands to untie the belt on her robe and she watches Bellamy swallow, his eyes following her movements.

“God, Clarke,” he chokes out as she lets the robe fall open. They’re only inches apart from having being huddled over the camera, and Clarke is sure he must be able to hear how hard her heart is beating.

“Bellamy,” she says his name for a third time, and she means it to sound low and seductive, but it comes out more like a whimper. It works anyway though, because in the next instant, Bellamy’s hand is inside her robe, on her waist, pulling her close to him, and his mouth is on hers, his tongue slipping inside. Clarke lets the robe fall to the floor and she crushes her naked breasts against his chest, her fingers curling in his hair. She lets out a squeak as Bellamy lifts her up and her legs wrap around his waist and he carries her to his desk, resting her ass on the edge, his tongue still manoeuvring against her own.

Clarke has to drop her hands to support herself as Bellamy presses his hardness against her between her open legs and she gasps. Bellamy runs his hands up her stockinged legs, flicking the suspenders holding them up.

“God I love these,” he says. “Did you wear them for me?”

“Yes,” Clarke answers breathily and Bellamy groans as he leans in to kiss her again. She struggles with his shirt then, trying to pull it off him, until she gives up and lets him do it himself. Once the shirt is discarded his lips find the pulse point on her neck and she moans as Bellamy caresses her between her legs, his hand then pushing the thin black lace aside to slip his fingers into her wet folds. A high pitched moan escapes her mouth as he makes contact with her sensitive clit.

“Bellamy,” she whines against him as he strokes her, his mouth moving lower so he can flick her nipple with his tongue. He inserts a finger deep inside her then, quickly followed by a second. Clarke pants and writhes against him as he pumps his fingers inside of her. He leans back slightly to watch her as he fingers her. She can feel herself getting close and she bucks her hips against his hand.

“Bellamy,” she moans softly, “I’m going to-,” she cuts herself off with the sound of her own cry as she hits her climax.

“Fuck, you’re gorgeous,” Bellamy whispers, kissing her as she comes down from her high. He pulls back, smiling at her and she grins at him in return. A knock on the door startles them.

“Hang on!” Clarke yells, scrambling for her robe.

“I just thought you should know,” Octavia calls through the door, “I know what you’re doing in there and you might want to stop before it gets any more awkward.” Clarke and Bellamy both turn bright red.

-

“I got Lexa a present for the Kris Kringle,” Raven tells Clarke a week later.

“But I have Lexa for the Kris Kringle,” Clarke reminds her. “And I’m giving her the calendar.”

“Not anymore. Now you have Bellamy and you’re giving him this,” Raven winks and hands Clarke what looks like one of the calendars they made. When Clarke flicks through it however, she realises it’s all pictures of her and she’s unable to stop herself from blushing profusely.

“You guys are such a cute couple,” Raven laughs. “I was talking to Bellamy about you yesterday and he was blushing the whole time too.”

“So what did you get Lexa then?” Clarke asks, quickly changing the subject.

“Well, I decided to go with the very first suggestion Octavia had,” Raven says. “A knife.” 


	2. Bellamy's POV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Basically the same but from Bellamy's POV.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I know it's a long time since I posted this fic but someone recently commented asking for Bellamy's POV and I was really feeling it so here it is.

If you had asked Bellamy a week ago who in his life he thought he could count on to make reasonable and rational life decisions, he would have said Clarke. Now he’s not so sure, because he’s pretty certain rational people don’t decide it’s a good idea to pose for a naked calendar, not only for band merchandise, but to also give as a present to their ex. In fact he thinks it’s probably the least rational decision of all time.

Not to mention the fact that this ridiculous calendar had all been Octavia’s idea, which means his little sister is _also_ posing for a nude calendar. Or at least, she thinks she is. He has every intention of stopping her from doing it.

Clarke, however. Well, he can’t stop her from doing whatever she wants, and if she wants to do a naked calendar who is he to try and stand in the way?

And okay, maybe part of him doesn’t really want to stop her because… well, he kind of wants to see the pictures. Which he feels a little creepy about, but it’s not like he’s going to be the _only_ one looking at the pictures. And he’s not going to hang it on his bathroom door or anything. But he might just be a little bit in love with her, and since he’s too chicken to do anything about it, he’s going to take the creepy way out and look at (totally consensual) naked pictures of her. He’s so well adjusted when it comes to relationships.

He helps her out too, asking a couple of his friends if they’ll do the calendar. Roma apparently has always wanted to be in a sexy calendar and goes for it right away. Echo is a little harder to convince.

“Not that I’m worried about getting naked, but why would I care about your little sister’s dumb band? I think I have better things to do,” she scoffs when he asks her.

“They really need the money,” Bellamy says.

“And you think a naked calendar is a good idea? Normally you’d be going off your head at your sister, forbidding her from ever removing an article of clothing,” Echo snorts.

“Hey, I’m not that bad!” Bellamy defends. Echo just looks at him pointedly. He sighs. “Okay, so I’m not thrilled about Octavia doing the calendar. I’m still hoping I can talk her out of it. But the _other_ girls…”

“Ah, there it is,” Echo smirks. “Clarke, I presume?”

“Fuck you.”

“You can if you want to,” Echo winks. “In fact, I’ll do the calendar if you agree to fuck me one last time. It’s been such a long time.”

“Echo…” Bellamy groans hesitantly.

“Relax,” Echo laughs. “I’m just kidding. I do miss you though. Roan is hot but he doesn’t do it quite like you.”

“So will you do the calendar?”

“You know, it would be much easier to see her naked if you just told her you like her,” Echo muses.

“Echo.”

“Fine, I’ll do it.”

-

Of course, Clarke asks about Roma and Echo while they’re supposed to be photographing birds for their photography class. He doesn’t really want to talk about Roma and Echo with Clarke.

“They’re just girls I know,” he tells her evasively, taking a picture of her to try and distract her.

“We’re supposed to be taking pictures of birds, Bellamy,” Clarke says, and he thinks he’s successfully diverted her attention for a second. “You call them when you want sex, right?”

“The birds?”

“Echo and Roma,” Clarke rolls her eyes. He looks at her, trying to figure out why she wants to know so badly.

“Not usually at the same time,” he jokes with a wink.  

“Not _usually_?” Clarke can’t help bursting out. For one delusional moment Bellamy considers that she might be jealous.

“Loosen up, princess,” Bellamy says, despite knowing she hates the nickname. Sometimes it just slips out when he’s being defensive. “Besides, what’s it to you?”

“I _am_ loose,” Clarke haughtily, and Bellamy snickers like a school child. Clarke ignores him. “I’m going to pose for a nude calendar. Bet you never thought you’d see the day.”

“No, I did not,” he agrees, swallowing. He’s been trying to not think about the calendar too much, but it’s not easy. He keeps imagining Clarke in various states of undress, posing not for the camera but for _him._ It’s a serious problem. “I bet you’ll look ridiculous. Can’t wait to get my hands on a copy,” he winks, just in case he’s being too obvious. Then he remembers Octavia will also be in the calendar and that successfully rids him of any previous sexual thoughts of Clarke.

Unfortunately, Clarke is adamant that Octavia will be doing the calendar and nothing short of death will talk her out of it.

-

The weekly photography class he shares with Clarke is probably Bellamy’s favourite part of the week, since it’s really the only time they hang out alone together. He mostly manages to act cool around her, but every now and then he blurts out something stupid.

Like, “can I see the pictures?”

He doesn’t really mean to ask, it’s just that he can’t stop thinking about it, and he thinks he might be able to help, since he’s also taking a photography class and Clarke might need a second opinion on which photos to use.

“What pictures?” Clarke doesn’t look up from her computer. Bellamy has the feeling he should probably just turn back now but he keeps talking anyway.

“For the calendar.” Clarke turns to him.

“Bellamy Blake, you pervert,” she grins.

“I meant from a photographer’s point of view,” he says defensively, which he _had_ meant. But now he’s acutely aware that it seems like he’s trying to perve on the girls.

“Aww, you’re cute when you’re embarrassed,” Clarke laughs. “I haven’t done Roma or Echo yet, just so you know.”

“I don’t care about theirs, I’ve seen them naked plenty of times,” he says offhandedly, not really thinking about it. He realises his mistake when Clarke starts teasing him a second later. 

“So who is it then? Raven? Harper? Ooh, Maya? You know she has a boyfriend.”

“Oh shut up,” Bellamy says, because there’s no way in hell he’s going to tell her it’s _her_ he wants to see.

-

Despite his (honest) assertion that he doesn’t care about Echo or Roma’s pictures, Clarke feels the need to tell him about their photoshoots anyway, informing him that Echo’s went perfectly and that she looked gorgeous. Bellamy is sure Roan will be pleased to see the pictures, but Bellamy himself couldn’t care less.

But he _does_ care about Clarke’s pictures, and he’s pretty sure she hasn’t done her own photos yet, but he really wants to know what she’s planning on wearing. Mainly to fuel his own fantasies of her, which, it’s creepy, he knows that. But he’s beyond the point of caring now. He can’t stop thinking about her if he tried.

Of course, he can’t ask outright what she’s going to wear, because that would be too obvious. So he tries to kind of work up to it by asking about Echo.

“What was she wearing by the way?” he asks.

“Oh my god, Bellamy, are you asking me to talk dirty to you _about Echo_?” Clarke hisses and okay, yeah, he can see how she would think that.

“Not what I meant,” Bellamy cringes, hurrying to say anything that might make it better. Unfortunately, since he seems to have lost the ability to filter the words that pop into his head before they come out of his mouth, he accidentally spills the fantasy he’s had of Clarke most often. “Have you got anyone wearing those stocking things that are like… attached with like… things?” he asks. And okay, she doesn’t know he’s thinking about her. But now she knows what he likes and will probably tease him about it mercilessly. But instead she just stares at him for a moment.

“Garters and suspenders?” she supplies. Bellamy nods, willing his face to stay a normal colour. “No.”

“Shame,” he gulps, trying to be nonchalant by turning back to his photos, and by some miracle Clarke drops the subject and goes back to her own photos.

-

In all his daydreams about Clarke, for some indiscernible reason he never imagined her in his study. In his bed, yes. In his study? Not even once. So when she asks him if she can use it, he practically chokes. _Clarke Griffin is going to be naked in my study_ is all he can think, and of course he lets her use it because if she’s going to be naked anywhere he wants it to be the place where he spends like forty per cent of his time.

He’s at home when Clarke and Octavia come over to do the shoot, and they kick him out of his study unceremoniously, with a stern warning that he’s not to enter under any circumstance.

So he just waits in his lounge room, trying to watch TV, but he can’t really focus on whatever show he’s watching when he knows what’s going on just a few rooms away. He’s so fucking screwed.

He practically jumps out of his skin when Octavia walks into the room, feeling guilty about his wayward thoughts.

“You have to take the pictures,” Octavia tells him.

“What.” he says flatly. Not because he doesn’t understand, but because he’s not entirely sure he can. Or why he needs to.

“I suck at photography. None of the photos I took are good enough. You need to take them,” Octavia tells him.

“I’m sure your photos are fine,” Bellamy says. “I probably wouldn’t be any good anyway, I don’t think I should…”

“Bellamy,” Octavia huffs, cutting him off. “I really didn’t think it would be this hard to convince you to take half naked pictures of the woman you’re in love with.”

“I’m not-,” he starts but Octavia gives him a look of such disdain that he falls silent.

“Just go in there and be a professional, okay? Try not to ogle too much.”

“I can’t promise anything,” he says, but he gets up off the couch and heads towards his study. “Are you coming?”

“I’ll just be in the way,” Octavia shrugs, taking his place on the couch. “Why are you watching infomercials?”

Bellamy ignores Octavia’s last comment and heads towards his study. He takes a deep breath to steady himself before entering.

“Everything okay?” he asks in an attempt to sound light and breezy. She’s wearing a robe at the moment which is probably good thing, and he tries not to think too hard about what she might be wearing under said robe.

“Fine,” Clarke smiles, though it seems strained to him and he feels bad that he’s putting her through this. But she needs the pictures taken, right? And he can take pretty good photos.  

“O said you need me to take pictures,” he says.

“Yeah, uh, her pictures are terrible,” Clarke laughs, seeming to relax a little. “Is she coming back?”

“She says she’ll just be in the way,” Bellamy tells her.

“Right,” Clarke nods, “I guess we should start then.” She turns her back to him and he watches her, mesmerised as she slips the robe off, tossing it aside. And, god, she’s wearing those garters and suspenders that he said he liked and her panties aren’t overly revealing but they’re made of dark lace and her ass looks fucking fantastic. And of course she’s fucking _topless_ too, and he has to swallow to suppress the groan that threatens to come out of his mouth. He wants her so fucking bad.

“Are you ready?” he asks, hoping his voice sounds normal, though to his own ears he sounds a little hoarse.

“As I’ll ever be,” Clarke mutters. She takes a deep breath and leans against the desk before turning her head over her shoulder and looking into the camera seductively.

“Great,” Bellamy manages to choke out. He tries to get professional then. It’s not Clarke in front of him, just a faceless blob. The tactic isn’t really successful, but he manages to pull himself together enough to look at her from a photographer’s point of view rather than a guy with a crush’s point of view. It’s basically the same except with more fake confidence, which allows him to actually tell her how he wants to see her, instead of just picturing it in his head.

Of course, he stops short of telling her how much he wants to slip his hand into her panties, or bury his face between her legs. And he looks away politely whenever she has to move, lest he see more than he’s supposed to.

Then he finally thinks he’s got enough pictures and he looks away again while she puts the robe on and comes to stand by him to look at the photos.

“So, do I look as ridiculous as you thought I would?” Clarke asks, and it’s clear she’s joking, but Bellamy can hear that slight vulnerability in her voice and he knows now isn’t the time to tease her.

“No, you look really sexy actually,” he says truthfully, glancing towards her where she stands, her arm brushing against his. Clarke continues looking at the photos, but Bellamy can’t help his gaze from dropping to her breasts where the robe has fallen open slightly and he’s suddenly imagining ripping the robe off her and pressing her against the wall to kiss her.

She must say something that he doesn’t hear because the next thing he knows she’s looking at him, one eyebrow raised and he shakes himself from his fantasy, his face turning hot. There’s no way she missed the direction of his gaze.

“Oh my god, I’m really sorry,” he says, looking away quickly. She says his name, and he looks back at her guiltily. He was supposed to be professional about this whole thing, and now she’s caught him staring at her tits. She hasn’t bothered to fix the robe and his eyes betray him, flicking back down to her cleavage once more before he looks her in the eye.

The eye contact doesn’t last long as she runs her hands down the front of the robe and starts undoing the belt. Bellamy’s mouth goes dry as he watches her, and he’s half wondering what the fuck she’s doing and half just hoping she won’t stop. And then she lets the robe fall open and he’s staring at her naked breasts and he hardly dares to move in case he wakes up and finds that this is just another dream.

Then she says his name again, and she sounds fucking desperate for him and that’s all he needs before he’s grabbing her, pulling her towards him, kissing her hotly.

Then he’s pushing her towards his desk and touching her wherever he can, drinking her in in those fucking suspenders. He groans when she admits she wore them for him, and what little self control he’d been holding onto dissipates. He fingers her on his desk until she comes, and he doesn’t want to stop (he’s not sure he’ll _ever_ want to stop now), but Octavia knocks on the door, informing them she’s fully aware of what’s going on.

Bellamy looks at Clarke sheepishly and he’s not sure if the blush that covers her chest is from embarrassment or the orgasm he just gave her, but he does know she looks fucking gorgeous, and he can’t stop himself from kissing her again.

“We should probably stop,” Clarke murmurs against his mouth.

“Mmm,” Bellamy agrees noncommittally, pulling away slightly.

“We can finish this another time,” Clarke says and Bellamy nods. Clarke kisses him again before hoisting herself off the desk and putting her robe back on, which is disappointing of course, but he’s hopeful that he’s going to get plenty of chances to see her naked.

“Clarke,” Bellamy says, before he can convince himself that the whole thing was just a brilliant fantasy. “Do you want to go on a date with me?”

-

His friends are supposedly happy for him, but that doesn’t stop them from teasing him like hell.

“Bellamy’s got a girlfriend,” Raven sings at him and Bellamy groans. “When’s your date?” she asks him, which may sound like a perfectly innocent question, except she doesn’t just ask it, she kind of sings it, a huge grin on her face.

“Next weekend,” Bellamy tells her, ignoring her tone.

“What’s she look like naked? As good as I imagine?”

“ _You_ imagined her naked?” Bellamy asks incredulously.

“Who hasn’t? So? Does she look good naked?” Raven presses.

“Well, yeah,” Bellamy says, turning a little red.

“You’re blushing,” Raven says gleefully, which of course only makes him blush harder. “So are you in love with her?” Raven asks teasingly, and Bellamy wants to say no, he really does, because they haven’t been on one date, but he’s useless at lying.

“Um-,” he starts and the pause must be enough for Raven to guess the truth, because he expression goes from mischievous to astonished.

“You are,” she says.

“Don’t tell her,” Bellamy says softly and Raven nods in understanding.

He has to be the one to tell Clarke, and he wants to do it right because it’s been a long time since he told someone he loved them. He knows he has to wait until they’ve been dating at least a month, maybe longer before he can tell her he loves her without scaring her off.

But of course, his brain and mouth aren’t always connected when it comes to Clarke, and he ends up blurting it out only a few weeks later. In his bed, while he’s fucking her, no less, and as soon as it slips out he regrets it, wondering if he could have picked a worse time. For a split second he thinks maybe she hasn’t noticed, but then her eyes fly open and she sits up so fast that she knocks her head into his.

“Ow,” Bellamy says, rubbing his head.

“You love me?” Clarke says breathily, her voice cracking slightly. Bellamy hesitates, but there’s no point in lying _now._

“Yeah. Sorry,” he says with a wry smile. But then she’s kissing him fervently and he’s responding, thinking maybe he hasn’t screwed it up after all.

“I love you,” Clarke tells him. “I wanted to say it first, you bastard. But I love you.”


End file.
